


Undo Me

by GettheSalt



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, striptease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:02:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2513603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettheSalt/pseuds/GettheSalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobbi Morse has no right looking that good in a catsuit, especially not right after fighting and beating a half dozen HYDRA agents. It should honestly be illegal for her to wear that thing. Anywhere that isn’t alone in a room with Jemma, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undo Me

Sometimes, Jemma really had to wonder why she let people get away with the things she let them get away with.

Case in point, now, was the way Bobbi was walking – no, _strutting_ – through the base. She didn't have a hint of smugness about her, not even the hint of a smile on her face, but her quick glance in Jemma's direction was proof enough. She knew what her little performance – known to people who weren't extremely attracted to the woman as _walking –_ had done to Jemma's self control, or lack thereof.

When it came to Bobbi, Jemma was finding that she wasn't sure how strong her self control really was.

Skye and May followed Bobbi, with Trip and Lance bringing up the rear. The five of them had gone out on an easy interception mission. Intercept HYDRA, get the latest piece of art with alien writing scratched on the back, and come back to base. Continue playing cat and mouse with these people. Obviously, that had required some stealth, and espionage.

Which meant that Bobbi Morse, all five feet eleven inches of her, just _had_ to be covered up from head to toe in that dark, tight bodysuit. The first time Jemma had seen her in it, she'd made the mistake of misjudging the distance from her hand to the counter, and dropped one of the more delicate lab instruments. Bobbi had said that she counted the thing's destruction as a compliment.

Now, most times, the biochemist was able to keep her knees locked and strong, and play it cool. It had been a long day, though, and a longer night. She was worn out, and utterly devoid of desire to even try to play cool. Skye and May were diverting; May towards Coulson's office, to debrief him after the mission, and Skye into the lab with her and Fitz For their part, Lance and Trip were making noise about beers, and thumping Mack on the shoulders, telling him to make room for them in front of the xbox. Coulson was still in his office. He tended to spend a lot of time there, since becoming director. 

“Hey!” Skye greeted, pulling up a stool at Fitz's side, and leaning forward, arms crossed on the edge of the holotable. “You are getting _really_ good at this!”

Fitz smiled, fingers turning over a small component in the holographic projection of one of the D.W.A.R.F.s. “I'm trying. Jemma's been helping me. I've got most of the gestures down again, without the shaking.”

“That. Is. _Awesome_.” Skye praised. She seemed chipper, which was a wonderful thing to see, again. Much of the time, now, Skye was serious, sombre, like May. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but Jemma often found herself missing the Skye she had known.

“What's awesome?”

Jemma turned, looking over her shoulder. Bobbi, still in her stealth suit, was striding into the lab, drowning out near everything else but the way Jemma's heartbeat was picking up. She had no right looking that damn good after beating a half dozen HYDRA agents into the dirt. 

She stopped at Jemma's side, putting a hand on her shoulder while she watched Fitz piecing the D.W.A.R.F. back together. Did Bobbi's hand actually feel that warm, or was it her imagination?

“You are doing really great, Fitz,” Bobbi praised, beaming at him. He grinned back, pulling forward two of the small projected pieces.

“A few weeks ago, I was scared to even turn this thing on. Now,” he focused on the holographic schematic, slotting the pieces into place. They glowed in confirmation, and then settled, shining the same sky blue as the rest of the rebuilt machine. “Clockwork.”

“I'd expect nothing less from _the_ Agent Fitz,” Bobbi said. “Listen, do you two mind if I borrow Jemma for a little while? I wanted to go over something with her. It might take a while, so you have my apologies in advance.”

“No, not at all,” Fitz answered, delicately picking the next piece from the hologram. He really was doing so much better. Little hesitation, confidence mostly restored. When she had returned, Jemma had been so concerned for him; his mental well-being was stable, but not sunny, and his physical progression hadn't come as far as she might have hoped. Part of that, she suspected, was a strong mental block he'd imposed on himself in her absence. Their friendship restored, and things between them settled, he was making leaps and bounds in his recovery. 

“Have fun.” Skye added. “I think I'm gonna hang out in here with Leopold--” Fitz shot her a sardonic look at that, to which she smiled brightly. “See if he'll let me play with the expensive toy when he's done.”

“Thank you,” Jemma said. For more than just letting her go. It was charged with thanks for Skye, for seeming like her old self for the moment, but also for the way she was staying with Fitz. Joking with him the way they had. They'd all seen him differently, after everything, and had kept their distance for some time, even when he'd started warming up to socializing again. No more, not after the dressing down Jemma had given the lot of them.

Bobbi held the lab door open for her, and she stepped out, walking down the hallway. “So, what did you need me for?” she asked, glancing back and up at the other woman, trying to keep herself from doing a full body sweep. “Should I have grabbed anything from the lab?”

“Mm,” Bobbi pressed her lips together, looking skyward and smiling. “No. I think we'll have everything we need.” She gestured, guiding Jemma towards the part of the base where they housed agents. 

A trickle of heat crept up her spine.

“Oh. Oh, is this...?”

Bobbi's laugh was quiet, but it struck right to Jemma's core, nearly making her shiver. “It's exactly  _this_ .” She answered. “Don't think I didn't notice you watching me through the lab doors. You'd think knowing I just kicked some ass would distract you a little from those thoughts.”

“On the contrary,” Jemma spoke up, her feet following the now well-known path to Bobbi's quarters. “It... does something rather remarkable to my libido.”

“And do I ever love that.” Bobbi said as they reached her door. Instead of shifting Jemma aside to punch in her access code, the taller woman stepped in close, one arm circling her waist, the other reaching to tap in 2-4-7-6, the door lock disengaging. Jemma's hands were sure on the door handle, tugging it and sliding it aside. She couldn't step in without losing Bobbi's touch; thankfully the senior agent moved forward, both of them walking into the room, if a little awkwardly. Bobbi's body twisted against Jemma's back, and the door closed, the snap of the latch loud in the silence between them.

And then there were lips on Jemma's neck.

Warm, insistent, adoring kisses, starting from the crook where her shoulder met her neck, and trailing up, slow. Bobbi's fingers reached up, brushing her hair aside, making goosebumps pop on her skin. And Jemma fell into it, tipping her head back, fingers curling on the arm around her waist. “Bobbi...”

The lips against her neck curved in a smile. “Already so keyed up?”

“It's that...” Jemma swallowed. “That suit.”

“You really do like it,” Bobbi whispered, breath ghosting over her ear. “Did you want me to take it off for you?”

The effect those words had on her was immediate. Heat shot through her body, a wicked tremor following in its wake, and she took a shaky breath, licking her lips. “ _Yes_ .”

Bobbi straightened, putting hands on the other's hips and turning her around. The shorter woman's arms circled her waist, leaning up, their mouths meeting in a series of quick, hungry kisses. Whatever Bobbi's question had done to Jemma, Jemma's answer had done the same to her. Between each kiss, she took a step forward, driving Jemma back until her knees hit the edge of the bed. She leaned back until she could no more, and dropped to the bed, breathless, looking up at the other.

A smile curved over Bobbi's lips, and she stepped back, boots tapping lightly on the floor. “Stay there for me, all right, honey?” 

Jemma's only answer was a wordless nod. Half of her didn't believe this was happening. The other half didn't want it to ever end.

Bobbi started with the arm guards, and then the utility straps, unclipping the buckles, and working the apparatus off until she could toss it and her guards to land somewhere by the wardrobe. “Take off your shirt for me?” she asked, fingers toying with the tab of her zipper.

Jemma moved quickly, a little clumsily, fingers fumbling over the buttons on her blouse. She shrugged it off, and shoved it to the end of the bed, eyes on Bobbi. The other smiled, and then looked down, thumb pulling the zipper downwards. It was almost painful to watch inch by addicting inch of skin appear as the zipper split. The suit was tight, and as the zipper loosed, Bobbi's breasts settled, pulling the top of the V further apart. 

Bobbi's fingers hit the bottom of the zipper, and her hands pressed to her own sides, sliding back up. Slow, curving over her breasts, until she reached her shoulders, her neck, her hair. She hooked the band that had held it in place under her finger, and pulled, hair falling over her shoulder in soft waves.

Jemma's mouth felt dry. Maybe she should close it.

Bobbi bent over, the action deliberate. She was keenly aware, Jemma knew, of the way her eyes focused on the fall of the breasts under her open suit. Those same nimble fingers worked her boots off, and shifted them off to the side. Standing in front of Jemma Simmons, bootless, in an open stealth suit, Bobbi Morse smiled, and waved a hand at her.

“Slacks?”

She didn't need to ask twice. Jemma shifted on the bed, shimmying and shifting until she could push them off, kicking them over the edge. She was left sitting in her bra and underwear, flush and wanting, and feeling rather good, watching the way Bobbi looked her over.

“Suit?” Jemma prompted, quiet. Bobbi's eyes, dark with lust, met hers, and she smiled. “Please?”

“Jemma,” Bobbi sighed, a hint of a laugh in it. “You're trouble.”

She didn't deny the other the pleasure though. Hands lifting to the open sides of her suit, Bobbi pushed and pulled, slow, until she'd freed one arm, and then the other. The suit hugged her waist while she reached up to unclasp her bra. Jemma knew she was very obviously appraising her with her eyes. She didn't care, watching the other's bra slip down her arms, and hit the floor. Bare from the waist up, and Jemma's fingers were itching to get on that skin.

But not yet.

Bobbi's thumbs worked under the suit, pulling it away from her hips, and then those hands worked it down, until she could step out of it.

She straightened up, and pushed her hair back over her shoulder, giving Jemma ample time to take her in. She made such a lovely, arousing picture. It was almost cruel how she wasn't joining Jemma yet.

The shorter woman remedied that by shifting herself, laying back against Bobbi's pillow. Bobbi was already following, but Jemma suspected the way she crooked her finger made the other woman move just a little faster.

Their mouths came together, kisses as heated as before, Bobbi pressing against Jemma, skin to skin from breast to hip. Jemma's hands drifted down her back, curving over her ass, and tugging her in close, tight. Enough to make Jemma gasp into her mouth.

God, that feeling was delicious.

“Demanding,” Bobbi murmured, lips brushing hers. It didn't stop her from rolling her hips again, though. Jemma whined, pushing up against her. 

“Please.”

Another slow roll. “Look at you. You're gorgeous.” Another, Jemma meeting it with a push of her own. “Just beautiful.” Jemma hooked her legs around Bobbi's, pushing up to meet every one of her movements. Bobbi's eyes shut and her teeth closed on her lower lip, a blissful smile teasing at the corners as she bite back a moan of her own.

And then she stopped moving.

It was so abrupt, for a second Jemma was dazed. Unsure if she'd just transcended some plane of sensation and no longer felt anything – and, undoubtedly, that would  _suck_ . Then her senses came rushing back, and she realized Bobbi was extracting herself.

“Wha-- _oh_.”

Extracting herself to rub her palm against Jemma where she was warm, and wet, and sensitive. Bobbi settled at her side, reclining with an arm curving over Jemma's head, fingers drifting through her hair. “All right?”

“Mm--” Jemma's breath hitched, Bobbi's fingers slipping under the edge of her underwear, and brushing, lightly, over her clit. “Yes.”

“Good,” Bobbi said, her voice low again, leaning in to press a kiss to the other's jaw. Her fingers were slow, sliding down, against her folds, the tip of her middle finger pressing against her entrance. Teasing. Jemma bit her lip and pressed her hips down, only to have the finger move, traveling back up to tease her clit.

She couldn't stand this.

She loved this.

The fingers against her kept up in that pattern. Sliding over her most sensitive spots, teasing, brushing and rubbing, until Jemma was a whimpering mess, fingers pulling at the bedsheets. Bobbi's kisses hadn't stopped, pressing at her temple, her ear, her jaw, the corner of her mouth. She was overloaded with sensation and it still wasn't  _enough_ . “Bobbi...”

The older woman pulled back, her fingers drifting back, down. Tugging at her underwear, moving them more and more out of the way. “What do you want, Jemma?”

Bobbi's eyes were trained on Jemma's face, her finger pressing against her, pushing enough to gain some entry. 

“You know...” Jemma lifted her hips for emphasis, groaning when Bobbi's finger slipped inside her. She didn't make a move to pull out, but that teasing smile was back.

“Know what?”

The noise that came out of Jemma's mouth was somewhere between a growl and a groan, she knew. She couldn't find it in her to care, except to reach up and tug Bobbi into a sloppy kiss. “I want you inside.”

It was Bobbi's turn to groan, muffling it in another kiss, and granting Jemma's wish. She pressed her finger inside, slow, gentle, but moving faster with every push. Jemma could feel her, inside, slowly, ever so slowly, taking her apart.

She loved this.

“More,” Jemma whined, fingers tangling and tightening in Bobbi's loose hair. The other woman didn't need to be asked again, and lined up another finger, sliding it inside Jemma slow. “ _Yes_.” Jemma breathed, trying her damnedest not to tug Bobbi's hair too harshly. That felt perfect. Just enough. And when Bobbi started moving again, the effect was immediate. Jemma couldn't have stayed quiet if she wanted to; breathy little moans slipped through her lips on every press in, Bobbi's fingers searching out places that made her legs tingle. Places that made her arch her hips, and tense, trying to hold on those sensations.

She wasn't ready for the brush of Bobbi's thumb on her clit. No where near ready for the flash of white hot heat that had her crying out, hands flying to her mouth to muffle it. “Bobbi.  _Bobbi_ , oh my  _god_ , Bobbi!”

Trust the woman to have skilled hands. Fingers working inside her, thumb insistently brushing over her clit. It was almost too much. Pulling every muscle in her body taut, deadening every nerve but the ones where Bobbi touched, narrowing her down to the fingers inside her, the thumb against her, and the lips brushing her ear, voice husky.

“Come for me, Jemma.”

How was she supposed to disobey such a rewarding order?

 


End file.
